


love like you

by konohashair



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst Free, F/F, Fluff, i wrote this because im single and i miss them, inspired by Love Like You by Rebecca Sugar, mention of frieda reiss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-09
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-16 01:40:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29942553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/konohashair/pseuds/konohashair
Summary: Ymir couldn’t quite figure out why Historia Reiss still sticks by her—and why she’s okay with it. But what made her even more confused is why she feels a certain way around her.Not that she minds it.
Relationships: Krista Lenz | Historia Reiss/Ymir
Comments: 10
Kudos: 38





	love like you

**Author's Note:**

> i told myself i’ll write a yumihisu fanfic someday and here it goes. note: it doesn’t really make sense to me

It is a fact that, no matter how long your arm span is, you can’t reach the stars no matter what when you’re on the ground; that even the slightest wind can blow the dandelion petals away. It is a given that whatever protecting you may do, the fire that you lit on a candle will eventually die down; that no matter how much fun you have on an away trip, you’ll eventually take the road back home. All the good things in life will eventually meet its end, no matter how surreal and perfect and ideal it is.  
  
  
\--  
  
  
Ymir can’t count with her fingers, can’t even find the right words to use to describe what she feels when she’s with Historia. The first time she met her, Ymir was far from who she was in the present; she was cranky, distant, viewed the world with disdain, and purposely separated herself from groups. She wasn’t exactly the sociable type, and because of the front she puts up, people actively avoid her, too. 

All these mixed with a mouth that spoke words like poison, it’s no surprise that she’s easily disliked. Ymir’s used to it, anyway, so she can’t even go as far as to even ‘think’ about somebody looking at her with warm and welcoming eyes. The mere thought is absurd to start with, and so is experiencing being on the receiving end of somebody’s warm and cooling pair of ocean blue eyes.

 _Historia Reiss. I’ve heard about her… it’s Miss Congeniality,_ Ymir had thought, controlling her expression so as not to have shock seep through her face, when Historia walked up to her with a bright expression. 

“Hi. You must be the volunteer my sister had mentioned earlier,” Historia chirped, walking towards her with springs in her step. “I’m Historia. You are…?”

Ymir stared at Historia’s hand, unsure of what to do. She can’t remember when was the last time she wasn’t treated with hostility, but the girl right in front of her treated her with so much warmth, even when they had just met and they’re surrounded with farm animals all around them. It’s an odd sight, really, seeing a tall brunette get stunned by a short blonde in the middle of a barn.

Nonetheless, Ymir shook her hand firmly, noting how it felt a bit rough, which told her that she must work a lot around here. “I’m Ymir,” she mumbled, looking away from Historia. “Thanks for having me here.”

“No, thank _you_ for volunteering to help us!” Historia exclaimed, now an inch closer to Ymir from earlier. “It’s not often I meet people who are here to help around the farm. They’re usually just here for my sister—or, well, me…” she laughed awkwardly.

“Aren’t you little Miss Popular,” Ymir muttered to herself absentmindedly, walking around the barn, before she froze up visibly when she realized what she said. “Oh shit, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that,” she apologized profusely, walking back towards Historia with a panicked look on her face. “I mean, I do, but that’s not the point, I’m just—“

What Ymir had thought would be a stuffy and tiring day proved itself wrong when Historia reacted to her snarky comment with a snort and in a fit of giggles instead of the cold treatment she thought she’d get. 

And maybe, just maybe, it’s by then when she knew she felt… something else.

If it wasn’t by then when Ymir had realized she could trust Historia, then there wouldn’t be any logical explanation as to why she kept coming back to volunteer, how two hours of travel time felt shorter as days passed by, and why she could be more easygoing and carefree. And though it’s as surprising as her smiling genuinely out in the open, realizing that they may be in a mutual relationship with trust as their foundation, it still wasn’t enough to explain half of the mysteries that surrounded Historia. All Ymir knew about her, up to that point, was that she grew up in the very barn they were in, together with her foster parents and her half-sister visiting from time-to-time, and she spends almost all of her time away from school cooped up in her barn.

Up until now, Historia is yet another puzzle to be solved. Being friends with her for three years and graduating highschool together didn’t cure Ymir’s curiosity; rather, all her actions piqued Ymir’s curiosity even more. And what’s more surprising to her is that there’s this light feeling in her chest whenever she’s around, like she is the freest person in the world, with no troubles and no doubts.

“Your birthday is coming up soon, Ymir,” Historia mentions as they walk around campus, looking at her with bright eyes. “What are your plans?”

Ymir scoffs, rolling her eyes. “Same old. Work part-time. Come home at the crack of dawn. Completely forget to mention that it’s my birthday. Sleep without celebrating,” she narrates with a smug look. It quickly disappears, though, when she sees Historia with a disappointed face. “What’s your expression supposed to mean?”

“That’s not how you usually celebrate your birthday,” Historia says, frowning. “That’s just so… sad.”

Ymir laughs at her comment, swinging an arm around her shoulder and pulling her close to snuggle. “My, what a cutie you are! Don’t worry about me, Historia. I’ve been doing this for the past 19 years, how can doing the same this year possibly hurt me?”

“That’s just pointing out how I’ve missed two of your birthdays,” Historia replies sadly. “I hate the sound of that.” She grabs onto Ymir’s waist loosely, pressing her entire weight on the brunette’s body, cheek squished against her chest. This action made Ymir’s heart perform a somersault, but immediately calmed herself down by ruffling Historia’s hair.

“Like I told you, it doesn’t really matter,” Ymir reassures her. “I’m used to this, more or less.”

Historia sighs, peeling herself off of Ymir. “It may be okay to you, but it’s not to me,” she insists, crossing her arms. “We’ll celebrate your birthday, even if it’s just the two of us!”

Ymir smiles. It wasn’t a smug one, nor was it sarcastic; she _genuinely_ smiles, and looks at Historia with much adoration in her eyes. She absorbs even the littlest details, like the way little strands of her golden hair falls in front of her face, how the sunlight brings out the color of her eyes, how the sleeves of her jacket crumples even more as her grip on her arm tightens, and how soft her make up looks on her that Ymir can’t even begin to feel threatened at her glare. Instead, she feels light on her feet, like she grew a pair of wings and that she has the ability to soar through the sky. 

_It’s crazy how she makes me feel this funny,_ Ymir thinks.

“I might be out late, but I’ll try to get out early today, I promise,” she gives in, not regretting making an almost impossible promise when she sees Historia’s face light up. 

“Okay! I’ll buy you cake and I’ll get us some party hats and we have a little celebration on the playground a few blocks away from here,” Historia exclaims giddily, beaming at Ymir. “I’m so excited!”

“Me too,” Ymir mumbles, smiling slightly at Historia. “Though, please leave when I’m not around by eight or something… but I’ll try to get out early,” she adds, as they continue walking.

And concern grows when Historia just smiles.

 _Okay. I have to get out before eight._  
  
  
\--

The clock currently reads 21:47. She did not get out by eight.

\--  
  
  
Life for Ymir felt like it spiralled down the good path when she met Historia. That she’s sure of, but what she didn’t know would also overcome her is impulsiveness; a trait she didn’t have, or she has but wasn’t aware of having until now.

It’s fifteen minutes past twelve in the midnight, and instead of going straight back home after feeling tired to her bones, she is instead going back to the familiar paths of school and running past a little longer to find a lone street lamp with moths swarming around. It lit up a considerably small portion of the playground, but it’s enough for Ymir to feel her heart drop as she sees a white box tied up with a red ribbon, a smaller box on top of it, and a party hat.

Sitting on the bench was Historia, wearing the same clothes from earlier and an identical party hat, hugging the stuffed animal Ymir got for her in a festival game—it was a penguin almost half Historia’s size, and really, Ymir forgot about it until she saw it again—and sleeping peacefully. The sight made Ymir’s knees feel like jelly and her heart clench; just the thought of her waiting for her to come for _hours_ is enough to make her tear up.

With small and quiet steps, Ymir walks closer to Historia and crouches right in front of her, dropping her hand on the latter’s knee in an attempt at gently waking her up. When Historia didn’t respond, Ymir didn’t bother waking her up for the second time and just gazed at her sleeping face, a gentle smile spread across her lips.

She only stops when Historia opens her eyes abruptly, staring back at Ymir while saying, “How long do you plan on staring?”

Ymir looks away, face heating up. “I thought you weren’t awake,” she says sheepishly. 

“That doesn’t mean you’ll also stare at me,” Historia retorts, playfulness hinted on her voice. “Or did you really want to do that? My, Ymir…!”

“Shut up, where’d the sweet and honest Historia go?” Ymir sneers, getting up to sit beside her and glaring playfully. “Besides, I told you to go home if I can’t make it by eight. Why are you still here?”

The playfulness in Historia’s face is gone, and what replaced it is something more intimate—something more precious, something more tender. Historia looks at her lap and smiles, replying quietly, “Because I wanted to celebrate it with you on time.”

Ymir is taken aback by that statement, her entire body frozen—just like the first time they’ve met. Though, this time, it was Historia’s statement that made her freeze.

“You still could,” Ymir whispers, gently running her fingers along the fabric of Historia’s jacket. “Even if it were daybreak or at bustling 10 am, it’d still be a worthy celebration,” she adds.

“Why is that so?”

“Because I’m celebrating it with you.”

This time, it was Historia’s turn to feel stunted. She feels her face flush as she turns to look at Ymir, who had her head facing away from the blonde, her cheeks tinged in dark red, and her hand resting on her elbow. The out of character sight made Historia smile, her insides melting. She reaches out to hold her hand, making Ymir whip her head towards her.

“Wha—“

“Ymir… what do you think about me?” Historia asks, not looking. She looks up to see the night sky, but instead finds a tree branch sticking out, a leaf being blown away by the wind. “What do you _feel_ about me, Ymir?”

At the question, Ymir’s stomach starts feeling funny, and her heart beats a little quicker than usual, but it’s also filled with more warmth than her jacket had provided. And instead of answering straightforwardly, Ymir just hums, then intertwines their fingers together.

They stay in that tranquility for a while, not minding how awkward they look; sitting on a bench and holding hands at midnight wearing a party hard and two boxes in between them. They didn’t mind the question hanging in the air left unanswered, and Historia was almost content with Ymir’s silent and vague answer, until she spoke once again.

“I don’t think it’s possible,” Ymir starts speaking, rubbing her thumb across Historia’s knuckle, “to even start explaining how and what I feel for you. It’s like… how do I…”

“Mhm,” Historia hums, encouraging her to go on.

Ymir sighs. “It’s like I feel like I’m acting more of myself when I’m with you,” she says, glancing at Historia who was staring back. “My entire life, I’ve been so used to acting like a completely different person, used to putting up a front because of the fear that people wouldn’t like me for who I am, but you… didn’t mind me, at all. You made me feel like I’m _someone_ , and not just _another person_ passing by, you know?”

They stare at each other, words unspoken but thoughts heard; not enough words could describe how one truly feels, but even without words, it can still be felt through the subtle actions she showed throughout the entire time they were together. Without even saying something, Ymir’s feelings are well-received; because even if it’s a busy afternoon or a quiet midnight, she was always there, holding Historia’s hand and giving her warmth.

“…I love you, Ymir,” Historia speaks, “and you make me feel like a worthy person. You mean a lot to me.”

Ymir smiles tenderly, and sincerely. She brings up her other hand to cup Historia’s face, caressing her cheek with her thumb. “You know… I would be crazy for laying myself bare and wearing this silly party hat with you at midnight if I didn’t love you too,” she replies jokingly, cracking a boyish grin.

Historia just laughs, shaking her head. “I suppose not, huh?”

Ymir smiles again—and she swears that throughout her entire life, this was the most that she had smiled in a day. “Thank you, Historia. I love you too.”

Even if words weren’t needed, words were there to affirm, and with those four simple words, they sought out each other in a warm embrace; not too tight, but enough to make them feel a sense of security. A hug to seal the unanswered questions and actions—a hug that said that they were meant for each other.

A hug shared between them that will start the road to something that’s a whole lot more.  
  
  
\--  
  
  
All the good things in life will eventually meet its end, no matter how surreal and perfect and ideal it is, but that doesn’t mean the beauty in things wasn’t there in the first place. You may not grab the stars when you reach for it, but the view is still mesmerizing on its own. The dandelion had still looked beautiful when blown away, its petals resembling that of an angel’s feathers as it danced gracefully across the air. The wind might have blown the light of the candle away, but it still served as light and provided you with warmth. The away trip, even when it came to an end, had still been fun and a worthwhile experience.

Even if the good things come to an end, it doesn’t really mean that no good thing will come out of it at all; by ending their friendship, Ymir and Historia had started their journey, to discovering each other and loving each other in the way only they know.

**Author's Note:**

> hi! i finally wrote something for yumihisu. i've been _dying_ to write something for them.
> 
> if you've reached this, thanks for reading! this is compensation to myself for being hurt by aot ch. 138 :D you can reach out to me via tumblr on @leoriophilic!


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